The prey

She was beautiful.

Krystina Romanovski was just like her mother, Rara Romanovski. And I didn't know what to do, except for fidgeting and sneaking glances at her.

Even the flowers seemed dull. Really, I was not exaggerating.

And somehow, I was sipping on the tea hoping she wouldn't notice or I didn't want to look like a creep.

Rara was speaking, mostly asking me about my childhood. But my attention was drawn elsewhere-to Krystina.

She sat quietly, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her gaze flitting between her mother and the tea in front of her. She was wearing a soft lavender dress with long sleeves and a high collar, modest yet elegant, the fabric brushing against her skin like a gentle whisper. Her dark hair was pinned back, but a few rebellious strands framed her delicate face.

Her features were soft, almost wraithlike, as if she belonged to a world untouched by the brutality of the one we inhabited. I just couldn't believe she was Judas's sister.

Her lashes were impossibly long, and her lips were the faintest shade of pink, naturally flushed.

And I realised, I was staring. Again.

I didn't even hear what Rara had said last because my mind was consumed by the sight of Krystina or maybe I didn't want to answer because talking about my childhood made me want to miss my family more.

She looked up then, her eyes meeting mine, and I quickly looked down at my teacup, pretending to be fascinated by the swirl of liquid within.

Where was Judas? When we woke up, he wasn't beside me. His mother had said he was in a meeting with his fathers-more like them giving him an earful. I felt… bad for him.

And even if I wanted I couldn't move because to my side, Kyle was standing with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on us-or rather, on me. His expression was anything but happy, and I had the sinking feeling that he didn't particularly enjoy being given orders by Judas.

"Do you need anything else?" Rara's voice broke through my thoughts, and I shook my head quickly.

"N-No, thank you," I stammered, managing a weak smile.

Rara's got a call and she excused herself leaving me and Krystina alone, and I exhaled a silent sigh of relief.

I glanced at Krystina, who had been quietly sipping her tea. Summoning my courage, I leaned toward her slightly. "You're quiet,"

Her lips curved into a shy smile. "I'm not very good at conversation," she barely whispered. "But… I like listening."

"That's a good quality," I offered, my nerves easing slightly. "Most people talk too much and don't listen enough."

She laughed softly and wind blew slightly messing her hair. "Maybe. But I think it makes me seem… boring."

"You're not boring," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Her eyes widened slightly, and my cheeks burned. "I mean… I don't think you are. You're… nice."

Her smile deepened, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her wrist briefly exposed. That's when I noticed it-a faint red mark, like a bruise or… was that a burn?

Her movements stilled for a fraction of a second before she quickly pulled her sleeve down and her fingers trembled slightly.

"I… I have some work to do," she said abruptly, rising from her seat. Her voice was rushed, and she avoided my gaze. "I'll be back."

Before I could respond, she was gone, retreating toward the house with hurried steps.

I stared after her, the red mark etched into my mind. My heart ached with questions, but no answers came. Whatever it was, she clearly didn't want to talk about it.

I jumped startled at Kyle's deep voice. "Are you done staring, or should I fetch binoculars?"

I turned to glare at him as my face flushed even more. "I wasn't staring."

His eyebrows arched, disbelief written all over his face. "Sure, and I'm the Pope."

I huffed and crossed my arms. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Not really," he replied dryly. "Babysitting you is my top priority. Lucky me."

I rolled my eyes. Kyle was infuriating, but he wasn't worth the energy. Just like his boss.

Human equivalent of nails on a chalkboard-grating, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

"You know," he drawled, leaning against the railing with infuriating nonchalance, "you're not very good at hiding things. It's written all over your face."

"Why would I hide anything?" I shot back. "And if I did, you have no business to know."

Kyle smirked and it made me want to throttle him. "Defensive, huh? It's cute, really. Like a kitten hissing at a lion."

I clenched my fists as my nails dug into my palms. "You're too cocky for your own good."

He laughed. "Sure, Ms Rosewood. Keep telling yourself that."

I opened my mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but the words died on my tongue as a sudden chill ran down my spine. It was eerie, and something far comforting in this hot weather.

And I instinctively turned around before my eyes widened and I stumbled back unconsciously.

Anya Romanovski stood there.

Her dark hair tumbled down her back in loose waves, and her green eyes glittered like shards of broken glass. She moved with a feline grace, her heels clicking sharply against the stone patio. The air around her seemed to hum with barely contained energy, like a storm waiting to break. Just like her brother. I hated how both of them resembled.

"Well, well, well," her green eyes looked me up and down and she smirked. "Look who's here."

Kyle straightened beside me and I looked at him to find his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before he masked it with his usual cold mask. "Romanovski," he said, inclining his head in a mock bow. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

I flinched at the change of his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself," she rolled her eyes taking off her shades and pointed her manicured finger at him. "I'm not here for you, Molotov."

Her gaze flicked to me, softening just enough to make me feel like I wasn't about to be skewered alive. "Seraphina, if I'm not wrong," she stepped up the patio and gracefully sat on the chair Krystina sat on and crossed her legs. The movement pushed the fabric of her dress, exposing her thigh and Kyle muttered something under his breath.

She poured herself some tea and took a sip. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I replied, not understanding why the air was so tensed all of a sudden. Anya had a way of making you feel like she could see right through you. This was the first time I was seeing her after the kidnapping, and I didn't know what to do. All these Romanovskis made me unravel.

Anya raised a single brow, her lips curling into a sly smile as she swirled the teacup in her hand. "Oh, Molotov. Why don't you go and fetch my car keys? I'm in mood for golf."

I swallowed hard watching to and fro between them. Whereas Kyle seemed like he was holding himself back, Anya seemed anything but that. She was provoking him.

Kyle grumbled. "And here I thought your brother was the only Romanovski with a God complex."

Anya laughed in rich and I cleared my throat glaring at him. "Don't compare me with that unhinged man."

I blinked. She was fiery than I assumed.

I kept my eyes on Kyle who was clenching his fists. "You might bite off more than you can chew, princess."

She leaned back, entirely unfazed, and crossed her legs again, the movement as effortless as it was intimidating. "I've been chewing up men like you since I was fifteen. You'd be a light snack, Molotov."

I wanted to disappear, to melt into the background and avoid the storm brewing between them, but Anya's gaze flicked to me again, pulling me back into focus.

"Seraphina," she said, her tone was gentler now, though her eyes still gleamed with danger. "Ignore him. Men like him thrive on attention."

"I'm right here."

"Unfortunately," Anya deadpanned, not even sparing him a glance.

I couldn't help it-a small laugh escaped me, quickly stifled when Kyle turned his glare on me. Anya noticed, of course, and her smirk returned, softer this time. She stood, brushing imaginary dust from her dress, and stepped toward me.

Her hands reached for my hair, fingers deftly tucking a loose strand behind my ear. Her touch was surprisingly gentle and she whispered, "Maintain distance from him, if you don't want to get him killed."

I froze, the words slicing through me like a blade. My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth to question her, but she raised a perfectly arched brow and inclined her head toward the house.

Following her gaze, my heart stilled. Judas stood behind the window, his daunting silhouette backlit by the afternoon sun. He wasn't fully visible, but the outline of his shadow and the intensity of his gaze were enough to make my blood run cold.

Anya's lips brushed my ear as she murmured. "Or learn to tame that one."

She pulled away and her smirk broadened as she sauntered past Kyle without a second glance. Her heels clicked against the stone as she disappeared into the house, leaving silence in her wake.